


Just the Two of Us

by Clever_Girl_22



Series: Shackled [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Prison, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Pre-Thor: The Dark World, Slow Burn, have patience this is a very slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28715976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clever_Girl_22/pseuds/Clever_Girl_22
Summary: After the fiasco on Earth, the Avengers and Asgard agree to imprison Loki on a solitary island; little do they know, someone is out there waiting for him.
Relationships: Loki/Sigyn
Series: Shackled [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119329
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Just the Two of Us

**Author's Note:**

> hey folks this is a piece/series from my StoryBird cite that I touched up for fun...call it a precursor for more Loki content in May.
> 
> Also want to add that Sigyn and Loki's relationship is going to be a little different than the canonical Marvel comics and Norse mythology versions. I typically don't ship Loki with anyone, but it felt right to try and do the pair justice.

They threw him onto an island. No trial, no jury, nothing--just a tiny island in the middle of the Nordic Sea and sealed off by Asgardian magic and Midgardian bars. No one was allowed in and nobody was allowed out, save the handful of guards that patrol his gloomy halls. Soon, the prison reflected more as his permanent home; it was a fate worse than death.

Loki knew he'd never reappeal, his charges (if any were ever formally written) were treason of his country, attempted genocide, and intergalactic terrorism. On top of that, there was apparently no substantial proof that the Sceptre and its Mind Stone had a clear and decisive effect on his brain (which was bullshit in his eyes), so he had no platform of defense to stand by. He had quietly accepted his fate; no backtalk, no quick words of malice or scornful remarks. His older brother was practically begging him to say something harsh or cold, but Loki refused. The idiot just didn't know when to quit.

So, he stayed in his little cell, his lustrous hair now waxy and dull, his green eyes full of defeat instead of bitter wit, and his body degrading from its usually lithe figure to a perilous stretch or sharp bones and too-pale skin. Even his clothes wore the repercussions of his actions, the army coat and boots of Asgard now tarnished and dirty, pieces of leather peeling off or rubbing away from all the anxious picking Loki did with his blunted fingernails. He had no books or journals to keep him busy, no puzzles or even eating utensils for fear of either an aggressive attack or an infliction of self harm. All and everything was taken away from Loki; the guards barely spoke to him and soon his silvery tongue shriveled into a hoarse, soggy whisper.

Loki passed the time muttering to himself, defending the idea that he needed to keep his wit about him somehow. It's not like any of the guards--human nor Asgardian--said anything more than slanders. They'd curse him, threaten him with death and abuse, or damn him to Hel. Like he was anywhere else. Loki knew his place; as the fallen prince of Asgard, he was an abomination that no one would ever care to trust again, so he took each scathign insult without a fight.

There used to be a time when Loki Odinson would never back down from a battle of words.

***************

Out of all them, only one guard ever really stayed: Sigyn, formerly the wife of a Loki from older times. She seemed to be in charge of patrols, taking shifts and commanding others on the island with an iron grip. Loki assumed Odin must have placed them again together to torment him, but Loki would not break--if there was one thing left in him, there was pride. Sigyn would never again be his match, and neither he her equal. They had chosen completely separate paths, Loki deserting the kingdom while Sigyn was heralded as a fierce and loyal foreign diplomat.

Her position here seemed entirely tactical to Loki, given that no one ever offered to take her place. She barely spoke to the other guards, muttering directions and nothing more; she didn’t curse or damn Loki as so many others had, which irritated the prisoner even more. Was she here by choice? WHy did she still show him such a small but prominent shred of kindness? Why was she even _here?_ It was obvious that she didn’t enjoy being at the prison, that much was certain. But, even more confusing, was that Sigyn never spoke to him either. She just stood her place, sheathen in silver, a small yet ornate battleaxe in her hands. She was transparent, like a ghost.

And it bothered Loki.

So, one day, the prisoner had the courage to talk to his keeper. Around noon, when she'd bring him water, Loki had a chance to peer closer at her face; he had to analyze it, make sure it really was his Sigyn. She now had reddish-gold hair that peeked out in strands from her helmet and her eyes had become a dull brown, her face covered in birthmarks and freckles and every minute detail possible. Yet, despite the weary complexion and langinue eyes, Loki feared a strong sense of anger coming for her. Something was bubbling inside of her and for the first time Loki had no idea how to plan for this.

“Why are you here? Don’t you miss your beautiful palace above?” he asked, his tone dry and cracking with vocal misuse.

Sigyn glared at him through the bars, her dull eyes now alive with contempt.

"You do not _speak_ to me." She whispered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said," She repeated, _"You_ do not speak to _me_ . You're my prisoner, my charge. I _finally_ get to shackle you to something else other than me."

Before Loki could reply, Sigyn grabbed his barely-touched glass and left, the water splashing with her steps.

"I will be back in three hours for your daily prescriptions." She called.

Loki scoffed and sat back; how comforting to have been reunited once more.

***************

Three hours turned into four, then five, then fifteen and then fifty-four hours (it was one of the few things Loki tried to keep track of) before Sigyn returned to her charge. She slipped by silently, a vial in her hands and something sharp in the other...it was one of Loki's stupid daggers. He could kick himself. They exchanged wordlessly, Sigyn dipping the knife into the drug and slowly slicing a line in the palm of Loki's hand. The previous guards had called it a truth serum, but Loki knew better--it was merely some type of narcotic, applied directly to his bloodstream that would put him into a deep enough sleep where he could be pushed to blabber Thanos' mission details without the consequences of infernal nightmares.

After a few days under the grip of the drugs, Loki grew impatient. The sight of Sigyn and her words had sparked some wily feeling inside of him that Loki hadn't really paid attention to before. He had questions to be answered, demands to be met. If he could manipulate her in the past, Loki could persuade Sigyn to tell him what she knew...she could even be convinced to _free_ him, if applicable.

So he tried to talk to Sigyn, lure her by with his sweet words and still-cherished memories together. She wasn't heartless, after all. She had stayed by his side and was predicted to return to Loki in his darkest hours. Odin had said so to them both when they first wed in the backlot of the palace. Yes, sooner or later, Sigyn would cave to his will and provide him something, _anything,_ to escape. He could only leave with her help.

***************

A couple more months passed Loki by, his body and brain close to unraveling. Sigyn had left for a few weeks in what felt like the spring and returned with colder eyes and even redder hair. It was absolutely _maddening;_ when they were wed, Sigyn was brown-haired and somber, willing to follow him to the ends of the universe. She loved him _so much!_ And, admittedly, Loki had grown somewhat fond of her. But it was never anything more than an arranged marriage, a setup by daddy dearest to procedure continued artificial peace in the kingdom. They had no real connection.

So why was this bothering him?

"You cannot be getting wrapped up in this woman's own problems," Loki growled at himself, "She's clearly different than how you left her."

And how he left her indeed: Loki, manipulated by Thanos and the Mind Stone, had broken ties with Sigyn and threatened to blackmail her to Odin; she had helped him escape Heimdall's eyes when Loki had fallen to Earth. He returned the favor with a metaphorical blade to the throat. But Odin had never discovered her treachery, so her new position made sense. 

_'I must question her, somehow; get a better understanding of my location and escape however I can.'_

So, the next day, when Sigyn returned with more water, Loki asked another question. It was late at night, but neither of the occupants were sleeping.

“Where do you go everyday?” he questioned.

It was abrupt but tactical; Loki may be losing his mind but he'd never lose the ability to sniff an exit out. Wherever Sigyn went could mean freedom. And by now, freedom was starting to look _very_ appealing to him.

Sigyn paused at the door, “There’s a giant room in this mountain. Why would you care? You'll never see the sun again, you know.” 

_'A mountain. Not what I was expecting, per say, but it will work.'_ Loki thought.

"And what do you do there?"

"Nothing that you are allowed to do, surely."

"You and I both know very well that no mere mortal bars can contain me."

"But here you are," Sigyn mused, "Contained and crippled."

She stood, a hand pressed lightly against her hip; she was thumbing the hilt of a sword. A double bladed one, no doubt. Loki grinned from the corner which he hid in; she was as scared as ever.

"Can you enlighten me as to what you do in this room?" He asked.

He could see Sigyn's eyes slant to the right--she was about to say something sarcastic.

"Books."

Books? Loki's slippery smile faltered; oh, he _loved_ books. He hadn't read any in so long, not while he had been tortured and then imprisoned. He needed books again! He'd give anything for them.

He tried to stand, "Can I please have some? One, even?"

But Sigyn merely shook her head and shifted her weight, setting the water down on the cement floor. Loki got to his feet just as she was about to leave, but stumbled to his knees and tipped forward, hitting the floor face-first. Sigyne stopped but didn't turn.

 _'How can you be so weak in front of her?'_ Loki chided himself, _'It's just books! Just some stupid, silly...'_

The floor tasted like dirt as Loki peeled himself on the concrete, refusing to meet Sigyn's now-pressign gaze. There it was again; she was trying to trick him into opening up to her, like she always did. Like he always did to her. Loki swallowed some spit; he was not going to let Sigyn into his heart ever again...never, for certain.

"Can I please just have one book?" He repeated, demanded.

Sigyn shook her head, the red hair hair shaking, "Why would I ever be kind to you again?"

****************

That night, after the lights were switched off the guards had finally fallen asleep (for it had become painfully clear that the only threat Loki was onto himself), the prisoner laid in his cell and stared out into the sky. The window was small, too small to wedge himself through or shapeshift out of, but there was a clear view of the stars and the moon. 

Loki closed his eyes. “I wish to go--to leave and find this room...or at least find a book to read."

And he laid there, silent and stone-faced for the night, until a light rattling hit against his bars. Then, a thick _thump!_

"Here."

The rattling grew louder, forcing Loki to peek his head out from the thin blankets. Outside, Sigyn stood, a rectangle besides her boots.

Loki snarled, “What's this?”

“I thought,” Sigyn began, “You could use something to distract you.”

She nudged the book underneath the bar doors, eyes widening with amuse as Loki snatched it away like a starved wolf. Loki was besides himself; the leather smell, the smooth texture, the rustling of pages as he flipped were all too much for his senses; he hadn't experienced this much enrichment since he had first been imprisoned! It was a laugh, a real burst of _laughter_ that escaped his throat, not the cheap chuckle he was so accustomed to offering in the face of adversary or death. No, Loki was laughing, so much so that Sigyn took notice.

She took out her key and stuffed it into the door's lock.

"Tell me why I should be kind to you," She demanded, "Tell me why and how I could possibly be feeling this way when you _never_ were kind to me?"

Loki's smile faltered; he hadn't even gotten the chance to read the title.

"Because we were once in love. And, no matter, what, we--"

"No, _I_ was once in love. You killed him and stole me and used me. You _used_ me--you didn't love me."

"I tried to, at least."

Sigyn's eye twitched, "It was hardly an effort."

Loki clung to the book in his hands, shoulders raised in defense as he sat in the corner, helpless and unable to conjure any lie to relieve him of Sigyn's coarse glare.

"That's how our reality was made to play out," He snapped, "There's bound to be other universes where we wed happily and lived our lives together peacefully."

"You don't get it." Sigyn spat, voice now wellign with anger.

Loki shot back a condescending glare, "Please, what do I not get?"

"You still haven't understood that we are stuck here together."

_'What?'_

With a twist of her heels, Sigyn vanished, leaving Loki clinging to the leather book and his nest of blankets. What could any of this mean?

*************

A rattling once more awakened him. 

"Get up."

It had become awfully cold overnight, so Loki barely breathed his pile of blankets, the ones at the bottom all ratty and worn. It was still dark out, but he could clearly see the silhouette of Sigyn standing by the doorway. Loki rubbed his eyes of sleep; this wasn't good.

"I said, get up," She commanded, "Because we are going to discuss something."

Loki cracked his neck, "And what, pray tell, is that?"

"Your destiny."

Loki scoffed; he had heard that enough. Odin had chewed him out all his life, Thor had tired to his his head with lucent dreams of redemption while they were on Midgard, fighting each other. He'd even heard it from his mother, however long ago the call had been. Thanos had told him of a dark destiny, one where he'd betray him and fail to save Asgard...Loki was not knew to his destiny. In fact, he didn't even care about it, anymore.

"There's nothing left to it." Loki said.

"I disagree." Sigyn replied; she squatted down, staring eye-length at him.

In a brief moment, Loki saw the Sigyn he knew again--her eyes softened ever so slightly, her grip on the bars in front of him displaying a determined yet patient tine. The Sigyn who had loved him was in there still, but Loki knew better than to try to woo her out. She would never want him back again, anyways.

"Sigyn," He sighed, "There's nothing left of me. My family has disowned me, you have left me, and my children are gone. Why are you trying to talk to me as if I have some sort of future?"

"I'm not sure, quite honestly." She said.

Loki shook his head, his hair well beyond in need of a rinse. She was just playing games with him, trying to give him a taste of his own tricks. It was laughable, really.

"Then leave me be so I can read in peace." He snapped.

But Sigyn stood her ground, "You forget your place here; _I_ am in charge of _you._ We cannot leave, so we might as well talk about what you'd want from yourself if you could leave."

"Oh, no, no, no," Loki hissed, "I can see what you're doing--you're searching for some silly sort of sign that there's still hope for you to redeem me. You want to bring me back to Odin and proclaim how you've changed me and that we should be together because only you can save me or--"

"Shut your damn mouth and listen to me!" Sigyn interrupted.

So Loki did, but not without a smirk. He still had a talent for getting under people's skin.

Sigyn crawled to her knees and came closer, the starless night shrouded her in even more shadows.

"Let me ask you again, what do you see as your destiny? Think hard, Loki."

"I don't see anything, not even with you."

The air turned even colder and Sigyn stood, nodding along like a child being lectured. And she left, only returning a few hours later to retrieve her key and toss another book at the ground, this one slimmer and almost unrecognizable, it was so worn. Gingerly, Loki wedged his fingers under the bar just enough to pull it across; it's title was foreign to him and the cover relatively glossy.

 _'So this is the game, now,'_ He mused, _'Instead of food, I receive books now. How charming.'_

And the game continued until Loki's cell was transformed into a miniature library, stacks on stacks increasing in volume, just as Loki's boredom eased away. Sigyn would only speak to him in fleeting glances, asking if he was enjoying a certain book or if he'd recommend any for her to retrieve. The whole affair was confounding to Loki; Sigyn showed him both contempt and consideration without ever uttering a single sentence to him. It was maddening, so much so that Loki finally decided to confront her one day, when she appeared with a small, blue book.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, not looking up from the novel he was reading.

"I told you," Sigyn replied nonchalantly, "I am able to go somewhere you cannot. You asked for a book, so I brought you one. It's nothing of severe notice."

"Ah, but it is. So, did Odin decide to make my life more comfortable here, given that this is my permanent home?" Loki retracted, gesturing to the shallow walls and sloped ceiling.

"Odin doesn't know I am doing this for you. I was condemned as well, you fool."

Loki choked back a gasp and saw a venomous look in Sigyn's eyes; so he had been wrong, then. She was being punished for his crimes as well.

"But you were never a part of New York..." He muttered.

"It didn't matter to Odin," Sigyn stated, "I am--was--a close confidant of yours. And I hid you from Heimdall's eyes so you could escape to Hel knows where. Did you ever think of that? That I might be here because of _you?"_

No, no he hadn't.

A wave of guilt, stranger than any he felt of before, engulfed him. Loki felt his heart beat against his chest faster and faster and for a brief second he thought he was going to be engulfed by the stress of the situation unfolding around him. He had never meant for Sigyn to be chained to his crimes, regardless of how much they had grown to despise each other! She didn't have to suffer for him, not now, at least. Not anymore.

"Why do you care?" Sigyn asked, taking in Loki's growing panic, "You never cared before."

"Can't you just let me be empathetic? I threw us both into this mess, so excuse me if I am a little... _stressed_ right now."

Sigyn rolled her eyes and stepped back, a hand digging into her pocket as Loki tried to gain some composure again. Did this reaction mean that he still loved her? Was he so worried because, deep down in the forgotten spaces of his soul, Sigyn still mattered to him? Impractical--she despised him! And he never loved her to begin with. That's what he always told himself, at least.

_Click!_

The prison door was unlocked; Sigyn held the key out in her hands for a moment, before tucking it away.

"What are you doing?" Loki questioned, eyeing the now-open space before him.

"Testing your trust," Sigyn replied, "I will kill you in a moment's notice if you try anything slippery, so consider this some exercise."

So, for the first time in almost two years, crawled out of his cage.

It was like the air was being sucked out of him, Loki was so overcome with emotions, things he couldn't quite place but experienced all the same. He could walk around freely! He could stand and not hit his head on the ceiling, or stretch his arms and not have to lay on the cold floor to pass the time. Yes, this was beautiful, beautiful indeed! Sigyn caught his arm before Loki realized he had stumbled and dragged him upright. He could have sworn something gentle flashed in her eyes.

"I'll take us to the library." She offered.

They ascended a few flights of stairs (Loki's legs ached and popped with the sudden movement), Loki begrudgingly leaning against Sigyn every few steps when his muscles felt like giving out. A solid twenty minutes later and they were at the entrance of a massive wooden door, it's entrance almost spewing light from within. Loki felt his eyes water just as the thought of sunlight.

Sigyn grabbed his wrist, "Come on, let's get going, then."

They pushed the doors open and were immediately engulfed in brightness, the sun flaring up against the massive windows and mountain range view.

 _'Oh, wow...this is glorious.'_ Loki marveled, eyes tearing up from the sudden shock.

The library was bigger than any he had ever found before, the walls stacked to the ceiling with bounds upon bounds of leather and paper. It smelled homey and quiet, the sunlight doucing everything in a stunning morning glow that secretly Loki never thought he'd see again. It was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Sigyn noticed and from the corner of his now-watery eyes, Loki saw the fastest flash of a smile.

"Why are you doing this?" Loki repeated for what felt like the millionth time since seeing her.

Sigyn only stared at the rising sun, her hair the color of fire and the grip on his wrist tender.

"You tend to lie a lot, Loki, even to yourself."

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I'd try rewriting mythological relationships but here I am...as always, comments and constructive criticism are appreciated!


End file.
